


too much love will kill you (just as sure as none at all)

by laira348



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's Plants (Good Omens), Fluff, Other, Podfic Available, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19769413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laira348/pseuds/laira348
Summary: What really happens to the plants Crowley takes away.





	too much love will kill you (just as sure as none at all)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was supposed to be called kill me with kindness but I left it in the bentley for too long.

Crowley didn’t actually shred his underperforming plants. Oh, no. That would be too kind. He gave them to Aziraphale. It was the perfect solution, because it made Aziraphale smile and because it was the worst punishment the treacherous plant could get. A swift death by a shredder? Nah, let them suffer in Aziraphale’s care. The angel was an expert at killing things with kindness.

(Maybe he had, originally, simply not wanted to kill them himself. Or maybe kill them at all. But none of that can be proven.)

The plants generally didn’t stick in the bookshop for longer than a month or two. When Crowley asked about them Aziraphale made a panicked noice and blushed, acting like he did anytime a certain flaming sword was mentioned. The angel couldn't lie to save his life.

Because of the shiftiness, Crowley actually didn't know what fate has exactly befallen his rebellious plants. He found out one day, after an evening of heavy drinking in the back room of the bookshop.

Crowley didn't often enter Aziraphale's apartment. He suspected neither did Aziraphale. When they wanted to meet together in a more, ah, intimate setting they met in the bookshop. Aziraphale didn't sleep much and despite his love of food he didn't actually know how to cook, so everything he needed was in the bookshop.

But Crowley loved sleep. And well, the sofa at the back of the bookshop was just not comfortable to sleep on. Aziraphale couldn't expect him to drive home after so much wine, could he? (Never mind that Crowley could sober up anytime he wanted.)

"You do have a bedroom, right?"

Aziraphale smiled. "Well of course, my dearest. You're welcome to use it if you're so tired." They both knew Crowley wasn't ever tired, just like Aziraphale wasn't ever hungry. Crowley assumed Aziraphale was too polite to point that out.

"Agk, well, if you insssissst," Crowley mumbled, hissing slightly. He really did have quite a lot to drink.

"Come along, then." Aziraphale lead the way, not waiting until Crowley scrambled off the sofa and sauntered - or more accurately, attempted to - after him. The apartment was small and cozy, even if it felt a little less lived in than the shop. Still, it was much more comfortable than Crowley's flat. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if he'd ever actually stepped foot in the apartment since Aziraphale moved in. Aziraphale opened the door to the bedroom and suddenly Crowley knew for sure that he didn't.

"That’s my plant," he said. Well not his plant. His plants. Every single one of the plants he's given to Aziraphale was there. He felt a little twitch of pride when a few started to shiver in his presence, but it was buried deep under the bewilderment.

"They're my plants, dear. You've given them to me, remember?" Aziraphale was smiling and Crowley could swear there was mischief in that smile.

"B-b-but...you've, ergh, killed them."

"They seem to be thriving, do they not? Granted we've had a bit of a setback after the fire. Adam restored them perfectly, but the stress didn't do them well. They are quite alright now, though. You're very good plants, aren't you?" Aziraphale cooed and Crowley could swear the plants preened. Traitors.

"I meant before! Every time I gave you one, they deteriorated! And then they disappeared and you acted so shifty!"

"It's quite hard for a plant to deal with a change of scenery, you know. Especially for plants as stressed as the ones you brought to me."

Crowley glared at the plants, but they stood proud. Evidently they realized that Aziraphale would not let Crowley do anything to them. (Or that Crowley would not do something that would distress Aziraphale. They listened to him complain about the angel while they still lived in the flat quite a bit, so it was entirely plausible that they may have come to certain conclusions. All wrong, of course.) Aziraphale was full on smirking now. "You bloody bastard," Crowley muttered and plopped face down on the bed, miracling himself into pajamas. "You knew exactly why I gave them to you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear. It was quite a thoughtful gift."

Crowley made a noise that was partially muffled by the pillow. It was quite soft. Of course Aziraphale's bed was comfortable.

"What was that, dear?"

Crowley lifted his head up and glared at Aziraphale. The glare was missing most of the necessary heat, as he lost his glasses sometime after the second bottle and couldn't hide that his eyes were far too soft.

"Well, I suppose I should," Aziraphale gestured to the door. "Although," he paused, the smirk returning to his face. "Perhaps I should stay. The plants seemed quite frightened when you entered. Wouldn't want them to worry."

"Of course." Crowley nodded like he understood anything. He didn't.

Aziraphale grabbed a nightgown (the kind that reminded Crowley of the things they wore when the the world was young) from the dresser and left the room to change. "Don't think this means I've softened up," he said as threateningly as he could manage. (Which, admittedly, was not a lot.) "You're Aziraphale's now. That's the only reason I'm leaving you to be. But you'd better grow well. You think my yelling is bad? Try dealing with the angel's pouting."

The plants shivered, as they all remembered Aziraphale's sad face.

"Be nice to them, Crowley," Aziraphale chided him playfully as he entered the bedroom. Crowley was struck by just how domestic this all felt. They've been spending more and more time together since they deserted, which was nice, but not very helpful. Aziraphale climbed after him, miracling the book he was currently reading into his hands.

"You're not going to sleep?" Crowley asked, his voice just a little bit whiny.

"Oh, I don't think so, dear. I'm afraid I'm not dreadfully fond of the experience. But I don't have to read if the light bothers you."

"I'd prefer the dark, but it's alright." Crowley, who was still technically a snake, did not really like bright light. It was one of the reasons he wore sunglasses so much, after the whole business with demon eyes freaking out humans. (He also wore them because they made him look cool. Crowley wasn't cool, but he was mistaken for cool sometimes. Hiding his expressive eyes from Aziraphale wasn't on the list, but it probably should be.)

"No, no. I don't want to disturb you." Aziraphale set his book on the nightstand and turned the lights off with a snap of his fingers. Crowley wondered whether he owned snap activated lights or if it was a minor miracle. No point in moderation now, he supposed, not like Gabriel would show up to reprimand him after Crowley's little hellfire breathing stunt. Not that Aziraphale exactly avoided frivolous miracles before that.

"The bed is very comfortable for someone who doesn't sleep."

"I come here to read sometimes. I may not like sleep, but lying down offers a lot more comfort than sitting up. I think this invention is particularly ingenious. It was all humans, wasn't it?"

Crowley couldn't imagine the stuck-up lot from heaven even sitting down. They had at least one chair there, because he remembered being tied to it when he was in Aziraphale's body, but it was not exactly comfortable. And demons preferred lounging on thrones and such. Lying down is too vulnerable. "All them. They also invented cuddling." Crowley briefly regretted not sobering up, because he wouldn't have brought this up if he wasn't drunk. Even so, he wasn't sure what was he trying to achieve. "Most interesting. We should try it sometime, don't you think?"

"I've never known you to be interested in human, ah, bodily experiences." Crowley understood where he was going from. They barely touched. But he couldn't very well explain that he was afraid if he touched him he'd never want to stop, could he?

"Not all of them, certainly. They can keep carnal pleasures and all of that. But...cuddling seems nice. Simple. Like a hug, just one that lasts a lot longer." They've hugged once or twice before. Mostly briefly in greeting, but on one particularly memorable occasion after they narrowly avoided discorporation, he held Aziraphale like his life depended on it for 46 seconds before his brain caught up with his limbs.

He was telling the truth about sex. He knew some demons like using it to tempt humans and that even angels would occasionally make the effort, so to speak, but he didn't really see the appeal. He was a bit curious about kissing, but he wasn't quite drunk enough to bring _that_ up.

Aziraphale didn't say anything and just scooted closer. He grabbed Crowley's hand and put it around his waist and then put his own around Crowley's. There was still way too much space between them (both metaphorically and literally), but it was bliss.

Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale's chest. "Hmm. Don't see what the fuss is about. Still, we should try it for a bit longer, right? The whole," he paused to yawn. "experience."

"Whatever you say, dear," Aziraphale whispered indulgently, but Crowley didn't hear him.

*

Crowley woke up with feathers in his mouth. It wouldn't be the first time that has happened, but these feathers were white. He thought about the human tales of spiders crawling into their mouths while they slept and wondered whether it was possible that he ate a dove. He realized that was not the case as soon as he felt a hand squeeze his own. Aziraphale.

"Morning, my dear."

Oh, how he wanted this. Waking up in the morning, Aziraphale everywhere around him. This sense of togetherness that was entirely different from their usual sense of togetherness. "Well. Not morning exactly. But I believe it's the appropriate greeting when one wakes up, regardless."

"Whut timesit?" Crowley slurred, spitting feathers from his mouth. He could do without that, but it was a small price for the comfort he received.

"Around three in the afternoon." He was reading, holding the book in one hand, the other holding Crowley's. It never occurred to Crowley that maybe he should disentangle himself from the angel now that he was awake and the pretense for holding him was gone. (Not that their excuses were particularly convincing in the first place.)

"You didn't have to stay here with me," he says.

"I know, but I quite enjoy the comfort. I would have woken you up if you were still asleep tomorrow morning." Aziraphale stroke Crowley's hand with his thumb. "I think we both deserved the rest."

"But...what about the shop?"

Aziraphale chuckled. "The shop is doing great without all these pesky customers. I was thinking...anyway that it might be time to take some time off. Away from London."

Oh.

Crowley didn't know what he was hoping for as he continued to lie there in his best friend's arms, but it was safe to say his hopes were shattered. He wasn't sure whether it was kind or cruel of Aziraphale to spend so much time and intimacy with him before leaving him behind.

But, like he said before, Aziraphale excelled at killing with kindness.

"That's...nice," he offered. Sure, they've lived far from each other before, but they've resided in the same general vicinity for centuries now. They haven't spend longer than a few years without seeing each other since Crowley's hundred year nap. Now they could barely go a week without meeting up. He couldn't imagine being in London alone.

"Where would you like to go?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley turned to look at him. His book was firmly shut now and he was studying Crowley with a peculiar expression. "Uh, well, gkh, I don't know." Not like what he thought mattered anyway.

"I thought maybe the South Downs."

Oh. Well, at least it wasn't that far from London. He could find excuses for visiting every once in a while. Unless, of course, Aziraphale didn't wish to see him, but that didn't bear thinking about. (If he would just think about it, he would realize that if Aziraphale didn't want to see him, he wouldn't really be cuddling with him right now. But Crowley wasn't thinking.)

"A little cottage. My books, the plants. A nice and cozy sofa. A proper kitchen. I've been thinking about learning to cook."

"That sounds lovely," Crowley whispered, hiding his face in Aziraphale's shoulder. It really did. It was everything Crowley would ever wish for. A home. An actual home, not like his apartment. Crowley would give anything to be a part of that. "But won't you get lonely?" he asked. He would've, but Aziraphale probably wasn't as codependent.

"Why would I get lonely?"

Ouch. "Guess not."

"It's not like I really have any other friends."

Other than him, Crowley supposed, and why would Aziraphale hang out with him now? The Apocalypse was averted.

"We need a bit of a break, don't we?"

Rubbing salt in the wound wasn't something the angel normally did. He wasn't doing it on purpose, else he wouldn't be smiling like, well, an angel. "If you think." His voice was way too meek for a demon, but he really couldn't find it in himself to care.

"It'd be a kind of vacation. We'd get away from London and it all."

Crowley froze. "We?"

"Well, yes," Aziraphale nodded, like it was obvious. "You're coming with me, right?"

Crowley didn't say anything. He wasn't sure he was physically capable of saying anything.

"I really meant for both of us to go the whole time, but now I'm terribly afraid I didn't make that clear enough. That was entirely too presumptuous of me and I'm sorry if I overstepped - did I overstep? I just," he sighed and when he started talking again it was slow and soft and not confident at all. "I thought we could go off together."

Crowley was capable of speech now, but he didn't want to talk. Instead, he crossed the small distance and kissed Aziraphale.

"Oh," Aziraphale said when they broke apart, cheeks reddening. A smile appeared on his face - slowly, at first and then all at once, brighter than any of the stars Crowley put up. "I was hoping that would happen, too. But I didn't think you'd snap until we'd be living together for a while."

Wait.

"You knew how I feel?"

Aziraphale laughed and reached his hand to stroke Crowley's cheek. "You're not as good a liar as you think you are, darling. I just...I wasn't sure if it was wise to act on our feelings. At least before."

"But we're free now! You could've just kissed me yourself! Or told me!"

"Just because I was fairly sure you love me doesn't mean I was certain." He looked away. "I was scared."

"Well I do," Crowley said without thinking (He did a lot of things without thinking. More things than he should.) and Aziraphale snapped his head back up. "Love you, you know."

Aziraphale smiled at him like he hung the stars (which, coincidentally, he did). "I love you too, Crowley."

They kissed again, longer and somehow even more tender this time. After, Crowley put his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. "If we're going to live together there is one rule, though. You're not allowed to be nice to my plants."

Aziraphale laughed. "As long as you don't yell at mine, dear."

"Ugh, fine," Crowley grumbled. "The things I do for love."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] too much love will kill you (just as sure as none at all)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637397) by [laira348](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laira348/pseuds/laira348)




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